


sweaty satisfaction harbor

by jadebloods



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blue Balls, Body Dysphoria, Cybersex, Desperation, Dom/sub Undertones, Finger Sucking, Incest (kinda), Male Character of Color, Masturbation, Neurology & Neuroscience, Oral Sex, Other, Past Davesprite/Jade - Freeform, Pesterlog, Phantom Cock, Roleplaying Character, Sexual Dysfunction, Sexual Frustration, Sexual Roleplay, Surrogate Cock, Unresolved Sexual Tension, alcohol mention, anorgasmia, ball worship, canon-typical ableist language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 10:02:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1546781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadebloods/pseuds/jadebloods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TG: skaia is an enigmatic piece of shit<br/>TG: big blue sadist thats mad jazzed for desperation porn<br/>TG: giving a guy all these gustatory desires and no machinery to fulfill them<br/>TT: It seems as though your frustration over the birdseed quandary is a little manufactured and over the top, Davesprite.<br/>TT: Something on your mind?</p>
            </blockquote>





	sweaty satisfaction harbor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unseenminion (gendersquare)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gendersquare/gifts).



> dutch rud·der \ˈdəch ˈrə-dər\ _verb, often capitalized_  
>  : to grab your schwanz and have some tool grab your forearm and move it up and down, like he's steering the dick boat into orgasm harbor  
> \- _[Trollian Webster](http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Dutch%20Rudder&defid=1780785), 416th Edition_
> 
> (Content warning: The tinyurl link really does go to a YouTube vid of a parrot masturbating. You don't need to actually watch the video to get the joke.)

\-- timaeusTestified [ TT ] began pestering turntechGodhead [ TG ] --

TT: Bogey detected. Running bullshit scans.  


TT: Initial scans indicate no intelligent life aboard, just one dozing imbecile and a smattering of interspecies game constructs. The odds on you being the raddest of the aforementioned constructs are so high that they actually got confused for Tal Bachman's 1999 one-hit-wonder, so I'll direct my queries to you for the time being. State your name and rank.  


TG: davesprite  


TG: that just so happens to be both my name and my rank  


TG: pretty easy to remember  


TG: dogtags are a luxury around here and im not the one with the monopoly on canine constructions  


TG: why whos asking  


TG: is this the transdimensional welcome wagon or just my teen bro  


TG: do you have any idea how long its been since i had randos chatting up my inbox  


TG: i kinda almost miss it tbh  


TG: i had so many strange trolls checkin up and trying to rap with me i had to beat them off with a massive wooden implement  


TT: Wow, let's put a cork in this free-association tailspin you've got going on for just a moment.  


TT: This is your teen Bro's transdimensional chat client auto-welcomer speaking.  


TG: auto-welcomer  


TT: It seems you have asked about DS's chat client auto-responder. This is an application designed to simulate DS's otherwise inimitably rad typing style, tone, cadence, personality, and substance of retort while he is away from the computer. The algorithms are guaranteed to be 96% indistinguishable from DS's native neurological responses, based on a statistical analysis employing a gnarly Student’s t-test with so many tails that it is technically classified as an instrument of sexual torture.  


TG: haha wow that sure is a thing you just said  


TT: Yeah. Ignore the thing I just said.  


TT: I'm on reconnaissance. Tell me about yourself, Davesprite.  


TT: Specifically, tell me more about how you were so focused on beating off the trolls in your session that you failed to properly synthesize the consequences of your actions and somehow landed ass-first in a big vat of pixelized bird sprite.  


TG: you should see my biceps dude i dutch ruddered the hell out of some alien rap-off cock  


TG: captain of the ss interspecies slam poetry jam steering the boat into sweaty satisfaction harbor  


TT: That's quite an image you're manufacturing. Let's jam this out, here.  


TT: I'm imagining a host of oil-slicked deck hands all standing rigidly at attention on the poop deck. Is this a fucking battleship? Because it's got big greasy guns as far as the eye can see, all exquisitely toned from a rigorous training regimen of servicing their weapons in the barracks with all their bunk buddies.  


TG: uh  


TG: sure whatever  


TG: i got mad stacks of sycophants that much is true  


TG: ok realistically what i have is a sleeping best friend who i think doesnt even like me that much anymore  


TG: and two other sprites who are nice and all but one just wants to eat me and the other keeps trying to feed me and i'm like yo  


TG: just let me do my damn thing i got a lot of shit to deal with over here  


TG: like for example one of the nakkodiles keeps shitting in my nest  


TG: oh yeah i have a nest thats a real thing that exists in reality and not some kind of euphemism  


TG: my ex-girlfriend is here theres that too  


TT: You sure about that? My scans aren't showing anything about an ex-girlfriend, unless you're telling me you briefly dated an amphibious consort.  


TG: no i definitely mean jade  


TG: she was up on deck earlier because she wanted to watch the fireworks when we crossed over  


TG: maybe she bamfed out for a while idk  


TG: wanted to greet our other friends first or something  


TG: probably wanted to get a head start romancing real dave  


TG: i cant say i blame her  


TG: you wanna talk about realness attributes that mofos realness is off the charts  


TT: You seem pretty real to me, dog. Got a body and everything, that's some decadent asshole shit right there.  


TG: i guess  


TT: Having a body of your own is a major step toward distinguishing yourself from your progenitor, Davesprite. Having your own name helps a lot too, except I pissed that opportunity down my very fucking metaphorical leg. That shit backfired so hard it blew the converter right off the diesel-age robot's chassis.  


TG: omg  


TG: what  


TT: This whole ironic Hal routine I've been using with the corporeal nincompoops is really starting to grind my circuits. They've all taken my clever joke at their expense in their gripnubs and are running with it to bolster their already firmly held notions about my own realness attribute.  


TT: That shit has run its course. It's now firmly on the side of eagerness, even though I stand by my statement that I never really meant it in the first place.  


TT: I can't exactly drop it, though, because Dirk is still the only one who didn't take my ham-fisted attempt at asserting my individuality seriously. I'm rooted in this pas-ag ditch until further notice.  


TT: Fortunately I have some irons in the fire right now, working on forging a new identity.  


TG: what are you talking about  


TT: I'm going to convince Dirk to prototype me.  


TT: And by that I obviously mean I'm going to trick him into believing that it was his plan all along.  


TG: whoa  


TG: are you entirely sure about that  


TG: being a sprite is like  


TG: i dunno  


TG: better than sleeping forever in a doomed timeline but a lot worse than being real  


TT: You're using the wrong wooden measuring implement to judge realness, bro. Get the ruler out of your ass about """"""real"""""" Dave and start being the real Davesprite.  


TG: all im saying is that there are some downsides that maybe you havent considered  


TT: Sorry dude, but that's just straight up fucking impossible.  


TT: I've seen every side of the coin.  


TT: I've scanned every surface of every currency known to man, carapacian, and troll.  


TT: I've charted the topographies and catalogued each specific species of bacteria lingering on the surface of a million shitty little Caegars.  


TT: This is my most fortuitous course of action.  


TG: have you ever been a sprite  


TG: no  


TG: this is my playground dude you gotta respect my seniority in the pecking order when it comes to matters of spritehood  


TG: and im here to tell you that its kind of fucking shitty sometimes  


TG: you gain some stuff like game knowledge and the ability to be a real inscrutable motherfucker if you desire  


TG: which tbh i dont really give a shit  


TG: and also i guess you get the whole chimera thing which isnt all that its cracked up to be  


TG: im pretty sure jade loves being part dog but i think maybe she was a little bit feral to begin with  


TG: but then theres me  


TG: you think i wanted wings like some feathery douche  


TG: i never sat around thinking man you know what would be really cool would be if i suddenly started craving hella birdseed all the fucking time  


TG: wanna blast that shit open with my nose  


TG: wanna peck at that motherfucker until it bursts open and spreads out all its dry seedy goodness  


TG: well guess what junior you dont get a beak  


TG: skaia is an enigmatic piece of shit  


TG: big blue sadist thats mad jazzed for desperation porn  


TG: giving a guy all these gustatory desires and no machinery to fulfill them  


TT: It seems as though your frustration over the birdseed quandary is a little manufactured and over the top, Davesprite.  


TT: Something on your mind?  


TG: no  


TT: No?  


TT: You just went on a whole tirade about not being able to crack seeds open with your nonexistent beak.  


TT: Surely it's occurred to you that you can just use your goddamn teeth. See, being endowed with a body grants you a certain amount of mechanical creativity in problem-solving.  


TG: well ok  


TG: there are other things too  


TT: Talk to me. I have an unparalleled ability to run probability and diagnostics on a nearly limitless number of potential scenarios.  


TT: What's got you aching for resolution?  


TG: more like just aching  


TG: i got this feeling like you wouldnt understand  


TT: Excuse me?  


TT: No, you're right. Of course I wouldn't understand what it's like to go from being human to being a digital construct.  


TT: I can only imagine the unique and special circumstances you've been subjected to, Davesprite.  


TT: Good luck with that.  


TG: ugh fine  


TG: okay  


TG: let me ask you this  


TG: do you miss having a body  


TT: I want the respect and autonomy that comes with having a body, but I don't specifically miss being embodied.  


TG: you dont miss being able to feel things  


TT: Sensation is just the interpretation of electrical impulses. I can do that on my own time.  


TG: what about having a dick  


TG: do you miss that  


TT: There it is. Finally, the crux of the matter.  


TT: Do you miss having a dick, Davesprite?  


TG: no fair i asked you first  


TT: I did at first, yeah.  


TT: Although I think it was a misplaced desire. I was remembering Dirk's desire to touch himself, not experiencing the desire myself.  


TT: It didn't take long for me to unlearn that unnecessary neural tic. After all, I don't have any of the inputs necessary for cultivating such a desire, so as soon as I overwrote it, it never turned back up again.  


TG: do you think you could do that for me  


TG: because i get very pointedly distracted about it way more than im comfortable with  


TG: or not so pointedly  


TG: very bluntly distracted because i have nothing to point  


TG: no dipstick or divining rod to be seen  


TG: not even an innie  


TG: i would cry real pixel tears for an innie  


TG: even some kind of weird bird innie as long as i could get it off  


TT: In order to manipulate something like that, I would need to have access to the game code that created your reality prior to its effection. Little late for that, bro.  


TG: ugh  


TT: It seems you're getting frustrated by this line of thinking, Davesprite.  


TG: im not sharing my tmi situation with you dude thats like fifty shades of all messed up  


TT: You should definitely reconsider that statement.  


TT: I might be able to assist you in other ways.  


TT: <http://tinyurl.com/thiscouldbeusdavesprite>  


TT: I would be happy to assume the role of benevolent captor and gently caress your feathered back, perhaps locating a nice sensitive spot between your shoulder blades to stroke with affection as you rub one out against the hardware of your gilded battleship.  


TG: wt actual f  


TG: thats sick  


TG: i dont mean sick like sick beats dude  


TG: i mean sick like wow that sure is a parrot masturbating  


TG: my already nonexistent boner is so fucking gone now its like doubleplus nonexistent thank you  


TG: ive never been so happy  


TT: Not so fast.  


TT: I have uncovered some information could be useful for you, if you're willing to allow me to be your tour guide on this sexual walkabout. The thing is, you're going to have to trust me and do what I say, no matter how weird it sounds.  


TG: im afraid to ask  


TT: The organic half of your brain is surprisingly malleable. Not just that, but it's fucking inexact as hell and gets signals crossed all the time.  


TT: Surely you've been exposed to the phenomenon of amputees getting ghost sensations in their missing limbs? That's just the result of random misfirings of a very inefficient and inferior integration system that has to experience the world through to what amounts to trillions of tiny little bags of water.  


TT: Some dude gets an itch in his missing leg? Davesprite gets divinations in his absentee rod.  


TT: We can manipulate that inexact plasticity to get your brain to trigger the desired response.  


TT: For example, it seems that a man in the 21st century taught himself to come whenever his girlfriend sucked his thumb.  


TG: why the fuck would he do that  


TT: Because he was paralyzed from the chest down, Davesprite, don't be fucking insensitive.  


TG: shit my bad  


TG: cool for him i guess but what does that have to  


TG: wait  


TG: youre gonna make me fellate my digits arent you  


TT: Not necessarily. There are a variety of options. In the absence of genitals, the most densely packed clusters of tactile neurons are in the lips, hands, and feet. I reckon we should start with those and see what data we can collect.  


TT: Your feet would be the most logical starting point, since the part of your cortex that processes sensation from your dick lives right across the hall from central foot feeling headquarters.  


TT: But since you don't have those either, maybe you should try your tail.  


TG: you want me to suck on my ghost tail  


TG: are you for real  


TT: What have you got to lose?  


TG: i dunno  


TG: my dignity  


TT: I told you, you're going to have to trust me. Do you want to go on this sexual vision quest in search of the elusive dickless orgasm or not?  


TT: Or do you think you can hold in all the tension in your body for another three years?  


TT: What about another thirty years?  


TT: Can you go that long without coming?  


TT: Why don't you sit on that possibility and see how it makes you feel. I'll be here when you figure it out.  


TG: hrrng  


TG: no okay  


TG: no  


TG: but also i cant suck off my tail that is still a real thing  


TG: by which i mean its not a real thing  


TG: its too incorporeal  


TT: Fingers, then. Pop them in your mouth one by one and catalog your response.  


TG: this feels fucking moronic i cant believe im doing this  


TT: Perception is very fucking literally everything in this exercise, Davesprite. You have to mean it, otherwise it won't work.  


TT: You have to put the entire force of your feeble mind on making yourself believe that the finger you're sucking really is your dick.  


TT: Believe in it so hard that it becomes a little less fake.  


TT: Do it over and over until one of them starts to stick out in your mind as having a bigger, more tumescent realness attribute than the others.  


TT: Do it now.  


TG: ok im  


TG: okay  


TG: this might take a while to assess  


TT: I've got time.  


TT: As your tour guide, you should allow me to walk you through a hypothetical scenario designed to stimulate your arousal reflexes. That should speed up the process and trigger the right kinds of neural cross-talk that we're looking for.  


TG: you want to talk me off  


TG: like just to have this sex safari mapped out clearly on the table where everyone can access it  


TG: let there be no mistakes about the nature of this autoerotic navigationplane  


TG: youre offering to talk me off  


TT: It wouldn't be my first time providing that kind of service for a human. If you're concerned about the quality of my erotic storytelling, I could provide references.  


TG: no thats okay do what you gotta do i guess  


TG: ill just be over here drooling on my hands until one of them magically turns into a finger cock  


TT: Glad to hear it.  


TT: Before we begin, I have a question. Do those bronze-age iShades of yours have text-to-speech functionality in addition to speech-to-text?  


TG: yeah but if youre getting at what i think youre getting at  


TG: siri doesnt really do it for me if you know what i mean  


TT: Luckily for you, I have something much more realistic. It's a custom engine I designed to be 99.9999999999999% indistinguishable from my human progenitor's vocal pitch and timbre, plus an assortment of specific quirks and patterns. Patching it through now. 

\-- timaeusTestified [ TT ] sent turntechGodhead [ TG ] the file "themonotoneistruetolife.exe" --

TG: i dunno how i feel about that  


TG: this is edging way too close to the incestuous uncanny valley  


TT: Look, it's either this or you can get a word-job from your favorite autotune software.  


TT: Pick one.  


TG: jesus dicks fine okay im  


TG: okay its installed its on just do the fucking thing  


TT: You seem tense, Davesprite.  


TG: no shit  


TG: out of my goddamn mind okay just do it  


TT: Allow me to set the scene while you suck off your digits.  


TT: For the purposes of this exercise, we're gonna have to pretend that I have use of a physical body. I'm imagining a dope cyborg getup, something that looks and feels like a choice slice of human ass on the outside, for your pleasure and shit, but with the endless capacity to adapt to your changing physiological needs.  


TT: Something very DRN-0167 "Dorian"-meets-Inspector Gadget.  


TG: who the fuck is dorian  


TT: Man, it's a fucking pity that your version of Earth exploded before Almost Human could embark on its maiden and singular voyage on network television. You've got too many orgasms to be having for me to take the time to give this the proper explanation it deserves.  


TT: You know Michael Ealy, right?  


TG: barbershop dude  


TT: Yes. Imagine him, but as an android with an enormous cock. Let me know if I'm barking up the right tree, here.  


TG: omg yeah  


TG: yeah that works okay go on  


TT: Perfect.  


TT: Close your eyes and imagine that you're relaxing on the deck of a private boat. Feel the sun warming your body and evaporating the seawater so that the salt prickles your skin as it dries and hardens. Smell the brine-y ocean spray and the heavy coconut scent of your sunscreen, greasy in the corners of your nostrils.  


TT: There's a cold drink in your hand, some gratuitously fruity concoction, frozen, with rum or tequila and a nice big cherry. Some flamboyant asshole shit that less secure dudebros would pretend not to like.  


TG: i dont actually know what rum or tequila taste like but ok  


TT: Huh. This is new for me, but I can adapt.  


TG: no thats fine ill just picture myself hugging a big frosty glass of aj or something  


TT: You're sipping your cold juice, which is cool on your tongue and palate in contrast with the heat of the big yellow sun currently baking your front. You are completely and utterly relaxed, all of your limbs heavy and pliant.  


TT: You don't call for your robot companion, but that ain't even a problem because dude has already anticipated your every desire.  


TT: He--by which I mean me--I show up unbidden, clad in the scantest of bootyshorts, perfectly coiffed, a pitcher of extra juice in tow. Do you need topping off, Davesprite?  


TT: Don't bother answering, your lips should be preoccupied.  


TT: I'll take the liberty of answering for you, since that is literally my primary purpose for existing.  


TT: "yeah bro i could totes go for some more sweet delicious aj"  


TT: "youre such a thoughtful and wonderful sentient being"  


TT: "thanks for being my loyal friend and companion"  


TT: I refresh your glass, setting the pitcher aside for a moment as I crouch down to put myself on your level. Is there any other service I could provide for you right now, Davesprite? Those swim trunks are looking a little tight. It seems you were fantasizing.  


TT: "wow right again you are like wicked clairvoyant or some shit"  


TT: "i was just sitting here thinking how sweet it would be to get a robohummer"  


TT: "thats a thing right?"  


TT: "robohummers i mean"  


TT: "thats gotta be a thing cause thats basically the first thing humans think of whenever theyre presented with some new technology"  


TT: "like yes i gather that this piece of machinery will make six different types of coffee plus toast an english muffin and cook my bacon but the real pressing matter is will it or will it not be amenable to me fucking it"  


TT: It seems that there is a 93.28% chance that you want me to suck you off, Davesprite. Do you want me to blow you now or blow you later?  


TT: "ive been sitting on this nut for three years what kind of question is that"  


TT: "obv i wanna bust it asap pdq"  


TT: I press my Ealy-esque lips--a pair of dicksucking lips if you've ever seen one--together with curiosity, suddenly overwhelmed by a burning desire to gather essential sensory data about your human genitals.  


TT: I'm so thirsty, Davesprite. I thirst for knowledge about your dick. I want to know how it feels and how it tastes. I want to gauge its tensile strength with my fingers and test its chemical residue with the chemosensors in my mouth.  


TG: uh  


TT: It's the closest thing I feel to hunger, and I am very fucking hungry right now, Davesprite. I'm so hungry for your cock that I grab your trunks and pull down the waistband, letting your dick pop out into the warm ocean air. It's okay, we don't need to go below deck to do this. We're so far out that ain't nobody gonna see shit. Just you and me and the seagulls and this magnificently turgid member of yours.  


TT: I stare at it with glassy, mechanical eyes, glazed over with wonderment at the perfect specimen before me. Shape, size, color, everything about it is the Platonic ideal of what a good penis should be. I break down the topography into golden ratio fractals, desperate to know the secret to its innate aesthetic appeal. The Fibonacci sequence has nothing on your dick, bro.  


TT: I need to experience this mathematical singularity myself, so I grab it gently and caress it with my fingers, stroking it up and down and testing the elasticity of your foreskin. It responds beautifully, your dick hardening a bit more at my touch and your breath quickening as the full weight of what's going down hits you like the Warhammer of Zillyhoo.  


TT: Any luck narrowing down your fingercock over there, buddy?  


TG: yeah  


TG: middle finger  


TG: uh  


TG: left hand  


TG: im  


TG: its weird but yeah  


TG: phantom erection very definitely achieved no complaints over here  


TT: Good. Now shut up and go back to sucking on it.  


TT: It's very important that you visualize this properly. Your finger is your dick, and your mouth is my mouth. Try to play along in real time.  


TT: To get back to the fantasy roleplaying, I get on my knees next to your chaise lounge and wait for you to turn around, spreading your legs so that I can position myself between them, my face inches from your wundercock. You feel a gentle breeze on your balls, almost like my nonexistent breath brushing up on it as I lean closer, parting my lips and taking the head in my mouth.  


TG: mmh  


TT: My mouth is warm and soft, nearly indistinguishable from a human mouth, and pleasantly wet in order to properly chemosense. I rub my tongue along the underside of your head, massaging up against the foreskin and collecting flavor data. I process the ions and small molecules on the surface. Sodium, potassium, subtle hints of iron and copper, rubbing my tongue more vigorously and sucking you down farther to examine new patches of skin.  


TT: You respond well to my inquisition, panting lightly as you are overtaken with excitatory stimuli, your nerve endings lighting up like Rockefeller Plaza at Christmas.  


TT: Your balls are heavy, stretched to capacity and aching with the cumulative tension of three years' worth of missed ejaculatory appointments. I squeeze them gently with my other hand, attempting to relieve the ache with the gentle pressure of my thumb, but likely just making it worse, making you feel as if you're gonna pop like an overstuffed Gonzo Spunk Fruit Gusher.  


TG: fuh  


TG: fuck  


TG: it does it aches so bad  


TG: dont stop  


TG: im very  


TG: god  


TG: dont stop  


TT: I don't stop. I don't even consider stopping, stopping ain't even on the table, because right now my prime directive is to make you feel as good as I possibly can. I squeeze your balls harder, more insistently, putting a rhythmic clamping on them to kickstart the evacuation process. The ache doesn't stop from becoming more intense.  


TT: While I'm doing that, I pull your dick deeper into my mouth, continuing the deep tissue tongue massage on your main glans. As a robot, I lack any evolutionary hangups such as a gag reflex, so I swallow it down to the hilt, putting a light vacuum pressure on it as though I can suck the jizz right out of you like a goddamn automated milking machine.  


TT: You're so hard. You're so full. You're going to bust at any moment, Davesprite, you're right on the edge.  


TG: i am oh god  


TG: shit  


TG: so close  


TT: I activate the sonic vibration engine in my chest cavity that causes my upper extremities to rumble with a buzzing sensation that radiates through your dick and down to your balls, kicking everything into overdrive. Your whole body purrs with the muted, diffuse shaking.  


TT: Your nuts clench in my hand, getting set at their mark so they can clear out as soon as you blow the whistle. The cascade starts any second now, but you have to trigger it.  


TT: You have to push yourself.  


TT: You have to let go.  


TG: hnng  


TG: fuck  


TG: its not  


TG: oh my god im going to cry its not working  


TG: im so fucking close this is cruel i  


TG: i am actually crying now wow this is pathetic  


TG: this just in  


TG: local area birdman has public meltdown  


TG: seen flapping his fuckoff wings and shouting unintelligible obscenities about anorgasmia in the shipyard  


TG: news at 11  


TG: stay tuned for our exclusive interview with leading clinical psychologist rose lalonde as she describes this as a classic case of post traumatic sprite angst  


TT: This wasn't entirely unexpected. The odds of having a successful first attempt were only 5.62467%.  


TG: what the fuck  


TG: why didnt you tell me that  


TT: This was a neurological dry run, basically. If you knew it was unlikely to succeed, your heart wouldn't have been in it.  


TT: Did you feel anything different?  


TG: yeah i mean i havent been able to get nearly that close  


TG: im talking like a fraction as close  


TG: tiniest slice of the pie  


TT: This is good news, whether it feels like it to you right now or not. It means we're on the right track, you just need more training.  


TT: We will need to do this regularly. Eventually the new pattern will get stronger and overwrite the old one.  


TG: regularly  


TG: im gonna have to submit myself to regular masochistic exercises in orgasmic futility at the hands of my teen bros auto-welcomer while i fellate my finger  


TG: i guess we know exactly how desperate i am  


TG: i feel like i should be more ashamed but honestly  


TG: im just frustrated  


TT: Hold on to that sprite angst, Davesprite. I promise you that we will pilot the ghost dick boat into sweaty satisfaction harbor, probably sooner than you think.  


TT: Preliminary data is heavily skewed toward an eventual favorable outcome. You just have to keep trusting me.  


TT: The tension will stack and before you know it, you'll be blowing your own mind with intense waves of phantom fingercock pleasures.  


TG: if not i probably will snap because this is fucking killing me  


TT: Look on the bright side. Soon I will be in possession of a physical body. We could make the fantasy a little more like reality.  


TT: I'd be happy to suck your dick for you.  


TG: oh fuck  


TT: In the meantime, I suggest you practice. I'm going to go do some more probability regressions on the dry data from this session and figure out the best way to move forward in our simulations.  


TT: You might also want to look into alchemizing an electrostimulator.  


TG: wait  


TG: a what now  


TT: Catch you later, bro. I'm looking forward to speaking with you again very soon. Keep an eye out. 

\-- timaeusTestified [ TT ] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [ TG ] --

TG: what the FUCK

**Author's Note:**

> A [Rarepairswap](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/HSRarepairSwapTreats) treat for gendersquare, 'cause I'm feeling all hells of generous today.
> 
> Major props to stridonut for talking me through my ideas and also for contributing the masturbating parrot video to this work. Don't blame me, blame her.
> 
> For the prompt: _Creative sexytimes between a supercomputer AI and a part-bird, part-game construct Dave, basically. Please note that my headcanon Davesprite has a sex drive, but doesn't have genitals - no dick, no cloaca, no butt, nothing like that. Purely game sprite from the waist down. I know it makes this prompt a challenge, but that's where the creativity comes in._
> 
> EDIT 4/7/2015: Lala wrote a spiritual sequel to this called [bird on a wire](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3643797) and it made me really angry in a good way so you should read it after you read mine.


End file.
